If Only For Wind And Time
by Vasheren
Summary: A boy, in the last sleep before his own legend begins, meets the one designated with Time.


_Hi guys. It's been a while! _

_So, I'm replaying The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker, and it's giving me so many feels. I'm using the game file spawned from a previous playthrough, so all of the Hylian text is translated, and man, there are a lot of mentions of the Hero of Time. And since Ocarina of Time is my favourite Zelda installment(not to mention favourite game ever), it keeps making me all sad! Also annoyed, because I kind of like to maintain the idea that none of the games are connected, but I guess that's really just not the case. Especially with that timeline book that came out recently that actually EXPLAINS the order of the games and stuff. But yeah. So I was feeling a little bad for WW!Link being all, not appreciated since he wasn't the OOT!Link, and also I was having so many nostalgia feels for OOT!Link, that this sort of happened. WW!Link meets OOT!Link in a dream just before WW starts. It's just a short drabble to vent some hurt._

_GUH I JUST HAVE SO MANY ZELDA FEELS.  
_

_Also, I have read that WW!Link is supposed to be like, nine or ten. He definitely doesn't sound like it in this fic, for the sake of poetic description. XD_

* * *

There were trees.

There were trees everywhere. Tall, full-bodied, emerald leaved trees. They loomed over me as I shook off the stupor of fading sleep, sunlight filtering through the gaps in the leaves above. The ground was thick and earthy, with moss and old leaves scattered about. I could smell the earth as well, smell the flora and fauna, and it was overwhelming. Where was the salty, fresh scent of the ocean? Where was the crashing of the waves against the shores I had come to know as home?

I moved forward. I pushed past the trees, my hands lingering on the ancient, thick bark as I went along. I stumbled over thick roots. I could hear the sound of the leaves brushing against each other in a light breeze, along with a faint, almost indecipherable tune mixed into the air. I tilted my head, discerned the direction of the music, and followed it. I walked towards the sound, ducking under branches, and as I neared the source of the song I discovered that it was a flute. My heart began to beat into a nervous, frantic pace, and there was something oppressive in the air. I stopped just before the final tree blocking my path, and listened. The melody was played softly, expertly. It spoke of longing, of lost homes, loved ones, and most of all, of _time_. Pulse fluttering in my ears, I stepped around the final tree before me.

I was in a small, grassy, sunlit meadow. It was circular in shape, the proud trees standing guard all around the border. A faint sigh came from the forest behind me, and the sound was sad, ancient. Shivering from something I could not explain, I raised my eyes and beheld the one with the music.

He sat upon a smooth, grey stone in the center of the meadow. A small blue instrument was pushed between his lips, his fingers moving over the holes in matching time to the music. He wore a green tunic, the colour the very same as the leaves of the forest. His hands and forearms were hidden under thick gauntlets, and his feet were likewise hidden in heavy boots. His shining, sunlit hair pushed past the emerald hat on his head and tumbled onto his forehead. His pointed ears were pierced. His eyes were closed. At his feet rested an unsheathed blade and shield, the silver metal of the blade almost blinding in the sun.

Altogether, the sight before me made me shake with recognition, with awe, and with sadness. My knees threatened to give way, so I forced myself to continue to move forward. My steps shaky, I slowly paced forward, until I stood a few feet away. I noticed a smaller rock and gratefully sank down upon it, my heart pounding and my eyes fixed on him.

His song came to an end, the final notes drifting away into the breeze. I waited, fingers clasped together nervously, and at a length he opened his eyes. They were the colour of skies.

"Hello." I stammered. Looking at this man, I couldn't displace the feeling that I was not looking at a man, but at a movement, a sequence. There was something here, something so utterly important, beyond me and beyond everything I had ever known. All-consuming, legendary, but at the same time the feeling of recognition pulled at me and along with it a peculiar, resigned notion of dread.

He smiled at my nervous greeting. His smile was terrible; beautiful, golden, and haunted. It was a wise, tortured smile.

"Hello to you." He replied, and his voice sent a fierce ache throughout my being. His words were not of my language, and yet I understood him. He spoke with a language so old it had been long since lost.

"Um…who are you? I'm dreaming, right?" I asked, my eyes fixed to his. It occurred to me that he was still more boy than man, despite being quite a few years older than myself.

He broke my gaze with a soft turn of his head. His hair moved gently with the breeze, and, placing his instrument on the rock beside him, folded his fingers together on his lap. There was a strange, triangular shape design on the instrument, and it, along with this man and his music and his sword, sent a pulse of recognition through me.

"I think you know who I am." The boy said gently, and I looked back into his eyes. I knew.

"You're the Hero of Time." The trees sighed as the whispered words left my mouth.

He nodded. "What is your name?"

"….Link."

An amused smile spread across his face. "I thought as much." For the first time, I noticed a faint, mischievous spark flutter through his eyes past the timeless sadness living there.

I swallowed. "It's…an honour to meet you, sir."

He tilted his head at me. "I say the same back to you, Link. It is my pleasure and honour to meet you."

Frowning, I shook my head. "Why would you feel honoured to meet me?"

"Because…we are the same, you and I." He said, smiling down at me. Once more, I felt a jerk of recognition, as though his words were not news to me. And yet they were the most surprising thing I'd ever heard.

"How can we be the same? You're a Hero! You, you traveled through time, fought so many battles, and rid the world of a great demon! I'm just…me. I'm Link." I said, shaking my head.

"And I am also Link." He said, turning away once more as his simple words shook through me. "We are not so different. I was thrust into the centre of an immense fight between two powerful forces at a young age. I had no idea what I was doing, what was waiting for me. I was too young, as we all are. But I had help. I had those who loved me, and I had courage."

He stood suddenly, his full height against the sun. "And you, Link, have this same courage."

"…What are you…saying?"

"Your life is about to change. You will go through many trials, explore many worlds, meet so many people, and help them all. You will fight, you will persevere, and you will succeed." He bent to one knee, and his large, warm hands were suddenly against my cheeks. I stared into his eyes, his endless, blue, ancient gaze, and _they were the same as mine._

"How can I…how will I live up to you? How can I do this?" There was wetness in my widened, frightened, transfixed eyes, and it slid down my cheeks and over his hands. Matching tears formed in his eyes, but they did not fall. He was all I could see, shining, green and gold.

"There is nothing to live up to." He pressed his forehead against mine as a strange, oppressive blurring began at the edges of my vision. "Just know…you are magnificent. And I am so, so proud."

"…Thank you." I whispered as the blur began to fade into black, his face before mine sliding into obscurity. The pressure of his hands against my cheeks began to lift. Giving into the black, I shut my eyes, and as the dream faded one last sentence echoed through to me:

"Please…protect Zelda."

Zelda?

And then there was nothing.

"Big brother!"

The sound of the ocean waves crashed into my ears as I opened my eyes.


End file.
